


Finals

by quadrotriticale



Category: Daredevil (TV), Marvel
Genre: Alcohol, Drug Use, M/M, POV Foggy Nelson, POV Second Person, alrighty lets go, foggys got some issues, it's just weed but ya get me, namely internalized homophobia, so like i use the fslur at the end, sorry abt that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-01
Updated: 2018-06-01
Packaged: 2019-05-16 21:08:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14818901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quadrotriticale/pseuds/quadrotriticale
Summary: He asks you how things have been going with Marci, and you lie, you tell him ‘good’, and you ask him the same about Elektra and he lies, he tells you ‘good’. You ask him if he’s okay and he tells you he is, and you tell him you’re glad, and you know he’s lying. He knows you lie too, when you tell him the same. It’s hard to keep secrets from him, not that you do it on purpose.





	Finals

**Author's Note:**

> i know this is short but i had like thirty second this morning to post something before work and i kind of like this actually? like oh this is a dude dealing poorly w his own shitty internalized homophobia but me too foggy

It’s April and you have exams soon. Like, really soon. Soon enough that, were you sober, you would be having a panic attack because you haven’t studied enough and you’re pretty sure you have most of the terms mixed up and you really can’t fail now, you're so deep in this fucking program. So, you know, instead of cramming you’re sitting in the fire escape with enough weed that, were you using it at the rate you normally do, it'd probably last you and Matt combined a week, maybe a little more. You also have two bottles of beer, each of them half empty because you forgot, at some point you don’t remember properly, that you’d already opened one. You guess it doesn't matter, since you plan to drink both of them, and possibly others if you can make your way back through the window without falling, but you'll figure out the logistics of that later.

You watch the cars below you, feel sort of like they're moving in slow motion. You think about Matt, and then you think about Marci, and then you down the rest of one of your half empty bottles and drop it off the fire escape. You watch it smash as it hits the ground, and then wonder why you did that. It was probably illegal, and you could have hurt someone. You agonize over it for what feels like an hour but probably only amounts to twenty seconds before Matt climbs onto the fire escape with you. You offer him your joint, which he accepts without a word, and he hands you another bottle of beer. You open it of course, completely forgetting your second one still sitting beside you. He gets you, totally. You're glad to have a friend who understands how fucking awful college is and how it's so much easier to just get off your ass instead of dealing with it. 

You don’t say much and neither does he, spend the next few hours sharing weed and making a valiant if unsuccessful attempt to empty the alcohol content of your fridge. He always clambers back inside instead of you- you offer, of course, he's blind for fucks sake, but he seems more steady on his feet and he also just waves you off and mumbles something you don't catch that sounds vaguely like 'I goddit'. His presence steadies you, a little. You lean against him lightly, try to let yourself really relax. You realize you’re exhausted, but you don’t do anything about it. You'll probably pass out later anyway.

He asks you how things have been going with Marci, and you lie, you tell him ‘good’, and you ask him the same about Elektra and he lies, he tells you ‘good’. You ask him if he’s okay and he tells you he is, and you tell him you’re glad, and you know he’s lying. He knows you lie too, when you tell him the same. It’s hard to keep secrets from him, not that you do it on purpose.

When you’re back inside, (you don’t remember going inside), you sit with him on the floor, talk quietly about all the things you won’t mention when you’re sober.

You tell him things that have happened to you and he tells you things that have happened to him, you tell him what you want to do, that you want to help people, that you want to do something good because people are incredible and you need there to be good in the world and this is the only way you know how to do it. You watch his face and his unfocused eyes and you’ve never wanted to kiss someone more in your life than you do now. He’s quiet, turned towards you, and you really, really want to know what it’s like to kiss your best friend. Your head swims, the room tips, and you take another drink. 

Quietly, you ask him to feel your face, ‘you know, so you know what I look like,’ and he asks you why, because he already knows what you look like, because you couldn’t have changed that much, Foggy, and his face is flushed with drink and he looks puzzled and you just tell him that you never know, maybe you did, and he doesn’t argue. You help him, a little, so he can find your face with his hands. (You're pretty sure he could do it himself.)

His hands are rough, dry, a feeling entirely divorced from what you’re used to with Marci. They feel… good, on your face, so you lean into it a little despite yourself. Your eyes bear holes into his lips and you desperately, desperately want to kiss him…

...and fear and disgust and anger sink into your gut and you start to panic, start to hyperventilate, tell him that’s enough and quickly bat his hands away.

What a faggot you are.

You have to leave the room, have to run away from him for a while, so you climb back out onto the fire escape.

If you're ever going to kiss him, it'll be too far gone to remember. The fact that you know that sort of breaks your heart. 

Matt is incredible and you hate yourself.

Marci reminds you, tomorrow, that someone like yourself should be glad that someone like her is taking such pity on you, and she’s right, you think. You’re disgusting.


End file.
